Audiopile Review: Transmitter is the third release from local producer Corben for the Hotham Sound imprint, which quickly follows his mini album, Peachland, for the MM Discos imprint from just a few weeks back. While his first two cassettes for Hotham skewed towards ambient, Transmitter reveals another side to Corben. And it’s a side with many entry points. Like the Hotham descriptor notes, Transmitter has a collage feel to it, each track made up of varying but oddly interconnected elements that range from scrappy synth-pop, bomb-like illbient textures, minimalist riddims and warbled fourth world drop zones. The tape is peppered with fizzy field recordings and smeared vocal samples, low-hiss of radio frequencies filtered throughout, which has the feel of an intercepted alien broadcast. Hands the down the finest, err, transmission yet from Corben, who has tapped into something truly unique here. Essential grip for purveyors of Vancouver’s electronic underground. Edition of 100.

Listeners familiar with CORBEN’s previous releases on Hotham Sound (2021’s ‘Whose Echoes Live In Memory’ and 2022’s ‘Sun Variants’) might be forgiven for thinking of him as a primarily ambient artist. But as anyone who’s followed his recent releases on Pacific Rhythm and MM Discos can attest, there’s another CORBEN; a late night purveyor of old-school electro and Italo disco who’s more inclined to make heads nod and bodies move. ‘Transmitter’ is a pirate radio signal beamed straight out of this alternate zone; a kaleidoscopic jumble of homemade beats and sampled media that harkens all the way back to ‘Paul’s Boutique’ in its disorientating, collage-like density.

And like that early masterpiece of sampling, ‘Transmitter’ starts us off in a deceptively languid mood. ‘Non-Duality’ creeps into view with molasses-like bass tones oozing slowly down the surface of a darkened wall of disembodied voices and stuttering synths. It’s a hypnotic opener, but just as we’re acclimatizing ourselves to its luxurious pace, the album starts to move. A swarm of Ligeti-like voices bursts into song atop a brutally simple pattern of hi-hat, kick & snare on ‘Junk’s Rocking’; a miniature masterclass in immediacy that acts as a promise of things to come. ‘Carousel of Fantasies’ brings more voices into the fray while doubling down on the beats, and by the time we’ve reached its halfway point, it’s obvious ‘Transmitter’ is meant to be listened to loud.

Nowhere is this more apparent than on the one-two punch of ‘Routes of Swallows’ and ‘To Question Oracles,’ the first of which is a stadium sized drum workout that sounds larger than anything CORBEN’s ever done, and the second an impossibly wide panorama of northwest nature worship, complete with swooning birds, crashing waves, babbling children, and even the voice of Paul Spong, BC’s legendary neuroscientist and Orca researcher. Spong isn’t the only piece of canadiana to be heard on ‘Transmitter.’ NFB heads will instantly recognize the voice of Project Grizzly’s Troy Hurtubise, as well as a host of vintage tones from the CBC. These voices flood the second half of the album, underpinning the momentary stillness of ‘Higher States,’ chattering over top the uprock minimalism of ‘Cross Talk’ and ‘Biological Rhythms,’ and finally bidding us a fond vocoded farewell on ‘‘Calcified in the Illusion of Movement’;’ a shimmering slow-burn outro to one of the best albums we’ve ever released.